Abyss
by AkaManjusaka
Summary: A puppeteer is lurking in the shadows, manipulating the actors of his play to his liking. Will Harry Potter be able to make a stand of his own, just to be spun into part of a bigger web? Or will he play his cards right and decide his own role? Set in Harry's 4th Grade, Triwizard Tournament. SLASH, HP/LV, Dark, Strong Harry, slight OOC.


AN: Yo people~ So this is my first fan fiction ever, the prologue and first chapter is currently unbeta-ed, so if anyone's interested, feel free to contact me. There will be grammar errors since I'm not a native English speaker and because I am rather busy, the updates won't come very fast, but I won't ditch this story, so you can be assured about that.

Disclaimer: Don't own it, ever.

**Prologue**

Winter has arrived.

That was the sole thought on his mind as he watched raindrops fall steadily from the clouds that loomed in the sky, landing on the ancient castle like ink splatter atop wrinkled parchment, producing a rhythmic sound.

The harsh wind moved swiftly through the trees in an airy dance, bringing with it the distant smell of mud and the familiar stench of blood from far west. A particularly large drop of rain fell from the sky, just to be caught halfway through its descent by a hand clothed in black velvet glove, leaving a darkened mark in the palm of the hand.

The owner studied the tiny mark, almost scrutinizing. Then, a faint sigh dissipated into the crisp November air, and pink lips curled up to an almost non-existent degree, just for a fraction of second. Eyelids fluttered open, and as the silver eyelashes brushed gently against pale milky cheek, a pair of mismatched orbs were revealed, crimson and pitch black, clashing with bright discord. A hand was raised, and with a gentle tug of the teeth, the soiled glove came free, revealing a pallid hand with wan purple nails instead of the normal healthy pink.

"So…it has finally began…" The hint of playfulness in the soft voice was almost impossible to detect if not for the slight smile gracing that perfect face.

"I suppose it would be a good time to start with the preparations…." Plump lips opened and closed, and with that, the lean figure faded into the darkness, leaving behind a swirl of white robes and a discarded glove on the marble floor.

The rain continued to fall.

**Chapter 1**

3 days.

72 hours.

4320 minutes.

Which would be…urgh….how many seconds now?

That was the question on Harry Potter's mind. 3 days have passed since he had arrived at Hogwarts for his 4th year.

The destined savior of the world sprawled idly across the softness of his squishy mattress, and stared up vacantly to the ornate plaster covering the ceiling, hooded green eyes occasionally flickering down, lazily taking in the movements of his house mates bustling around him. His mind however, is miles away from his body, drifting in a totally different space, a world of his own. His fingers traced over the wrinkles on the bed sheet.

"What do you think they would be like?" Ron suddenly asked out of nowhere.

"Who?"

"You know, them!"

"Ron, it doesn't help when you don't tell us who you're talking about." Hermione sat down on the bed next to Harry and stared at Ron in dismay.

Ron groaned and turned his attention to the small figure on the bed. "You know, the other schools! What do you think they'll be like, Harry?"

The boy, still sunk in the blissful softness of the mattress, did nothing to indicate that he had heard the redhead.

"Harry!" Ron poked the boy harshly in the stomach, just to see if he had really fallen asleep. That poke certainly helped get the boy's attention, he blinked owlishly for a few times and a sheepish grin broke out on his face.

"Sorry guys. It's just…it's all pretty much a surprise to me. I guess we'll just have to wait and see, right?" Harry scratched his ear and craned his neck into an absurd position to stare at Ron, he looked at him, first with awe, as if wondering how in the flying fuck he had managed to twist his neck almost 360 degrees. After assuming that his neck will be just fine, the large blue eyes warmed and filled with understanding.

"I know, but it just seems so exciting. The other student's feeling must be infecting me." He pinched the bridge of his nose, and moved to sit down next to Harry, weaving his fingers through the younger boy's messy black locks. The younger boy closed his eyes and sighed contently at the familiar touch, curling up his body like a cat, after seeing his reaction, the redhead's face lifted up with a smile.

"Ah I mean, at least we can guess right, right? I bet the Durmstrang students will all be like serious old men that have a stick up their ass. But the girls from Beauxbaton will definitely be something to see, they're all so bloody pretty! I just can't wait to see them!"

The trio laughed at this, and Harry laughed even louder as Hermione swatted Ron across the head.

If only we can stay like this forever, Harry smiled. It's certainly a very nice thought, even though he knows it won't be true.

**{{Abyss}}**

The first week has passed in the blink of an eye, and soon Friday afternoon has arrived, as the students were all rushed into the Great Hall as members of the staff fussed over their "inappropriate" attire. Harry and Ron snickered behind their hand as Professor McGonagall scolded some older Griffindors about not having their ties straight enough. Soon after that, the pastel blue coach of Beauxbaton academy and the giant ship of Durmstrang has arrived. A giant shock ran through Harry as he saw Victor Krum, the legendary Quidditch player, amongst the sea of foreign students. As hushed whispers spread through the crowd like wildfire about the appearance of the Bulgarin Quidditch star, the headmasters exchanged sugar-coated compliments and flung each other a bunch of smiles – Harry didn't see a point in them since they seem rather fake and forced to him.

The students were ushered to sit at their house tables while their guests joined them, the Durmstrang's scarlet robes contrasted brightly against the sea of green at the Slytherin table, while Beauxbaton's pastel blue blended rather nicely with the dark blue and bronze over at the Ravenclaw table. The boys from the other three houses could only look on in envy and drool as the Beauxbaton girls conversed lightly with the students at the eagle house.

Draco Malfoy sat amidst the group of Slytherins, nonchalantly swirling the ice water in his glass, his sharp eyes darting around the hall. Unlike the other houses, the Slytherin table is eerily quiet, save for the clinking of tableware and hushed conversations breaking out between the two schools.

As the students around him ate with perfect composure and chattered in whispers, Draco's eyes flickered down at the untouched food in his plate, long eyelashes casting shadows upon his cheek, those mercury colored orbs narrowing dangerously as Dumbledore's enlarged voice reverberated around the hall.

However with every passing word, Draco's lip would curl up a little at the edge, until it was a full-blown smirk. His housemates threw him some weird glances, no doubt curious about his amused expression, but he paid them no attention.

Well, this "game" should be mildly interesting.

**{{Abyss}}**

"So the ministry is really filled with nothing but fucking retards." Such crude words were spoken with a sweet, melodic voice that rang in the air, followed by a string of laughter. Despite the voice being cheerful and filled with winsome innocence, it spread a dangerous feeling that sent chills up ones' spine. A group of hooded figure stood in a semi circle, surrounding a throne at the far end of the room. The lovely voice did nothing but send a tremor through the entire group.

As if pleased by that reaction, the voice let out another bubbly laughter, sounding all the more charming.

The source of this voice is the figure sprawled across the majestic throne in the middle of the room, with his neck on an armrest and his knees bent and feet dangling over the other. One pallid hand with nails that's a slight purple taint rested atop his stomach, while the other hang carelessly at the side, its long slender fingers curled around the base of a champagne glass, swirling around its content, almost spilling the red liquid. If someone else had being able to witness this moment, they would have mistaken the man, no, teen for an angel.

"Neh…Lucius…" Pink lips parted slightly to form a name.

The man whose name had being called, tensed momentarily before catching himself and regaining his composure. None of his little slip escaped the pair of mismatched eyes, hooded slightly with laziness.

"Yes my Lord?" The man spoke in a voice barely above a whisper, the slight trembling in his frame almost impossible to make out in the dim glow of the countless candles stationed around the room.

The man lounging on the throne flashed a smile filled with obscene naivety

"Hn… Lucius, are you scared of me?" The tone of the soft voice took a sharp turn and the atmosphere instantly froze and tensed, Lucius made no audible reply, only silently shaking his head, the chrome mask covering his face dimly illuminated by the flickering flames of the candle, giving it an eerie glow.

"Answer me!" The hint of warning laced in the beautiful voice turned into downright malice, the different colored orbs brightened and narrowed dangerously.

Then, with a grace that is almost alien, the man slipped off the throne that he was laying on and danced airily toward the blonde.

_The predator and his prey._

"No, my Lord." Came the curt reply. Noticing the man's obvious discomfort, the Dark Lord's luscious lips turned up to a genial smile, he moved to stand behind Lucius, closer than necessary. His laid his head on the taller man's shoulder, stood on his tippy toe, and traced a wet tongue over the shell of the other's man's ear, nipping at the top, and purred contently when he felt his servant's breath hitch. One delicate finger was lifted to sensually trace the blonde's collarbone.

"Hmm…I certainly do hope you meant that…" He sounded as if he is going to pout. "After all, those who dare lie or defy me deserves to die…, even if it's you, Lucius, my favorite."

The smile amplified, and the blond beauty gasped when a wand dug into his skin where his Lord's nimble fingers lingered just a second ago.

"Yes. A pity most certainly." The sweet voice hummed pleasantly, but the wand dug into the supple skin with even more strength. They stayed in that position, every other occupants of the room completely hushed, not even daring to breath.

"Well, seeing their current conditions," the lean figure started as he slipped away from Lucius. "It would be no surprise to me if -"

"My lord-"

"You dare interrupt me?" The lithe body turned abruptly, like a cobra ready to strike, but contrary to the sharp movement, the words were gently whispered. Shortly after the last syllable was spoken, the man who spoke up is a screaming and writhing mess on the floor. The dark Lord let out another bubbly laugh.

"You like a fat worm having a hard time giving birth! Hahahahaha!" The spell was lifted seconds later, the man on the floor quickly scampered forward to kiss the silky white robe of his master, then retreated back to his place in the circle, lowering his head obediently.

"As I was saying, I now have no doubt that our plans according to the tournament will go smoothly. Until then, we will lay low and observe the situations in the Wizarding World. We mustn't be impatient at this stage, especially when we're so close. I want the Wizarding word to crumble slowly. I want to see them drive themselves into madness, I want them to be the ones that destroy themselves in the end. In simpler words, soon, the seed would be planted, and box to hell would be opened, and all I have to do is sit and enjoy my tea as the roots slowly spreads out everywhere. It would be my pleasure to watch this play, orchestrated by no other but myself."

A brilliant smile.

"Any other way, and this game wouldn't be interesting anymore."

**{{Abyss}}**

It was after dinner when Harry found himself walking through the isolated part of the castle that is usually deserted. As he briskly walked down the unlit hallway, his eyes had glowed an eerie green as he was engulfed in darkness. He made several turns and soon, he was standing in front of the abandoned girl's lavatory where the secret entrance to the chamber is located.

_**Open**__._

The soft voice was barely audible even to his own ears.

Yet the chamber has answered to his call.

After performing a quick cleaning spell, Harry had being able to get rid of most of the grim from the pipe. Then, holding his breath, he jumped down into the darkness below.

A moment later, Harry was brushing some dirt from his robe as he took in his surroundings. He had landed in the small room connecting to the main chamber, the room seem to have stayed the same since he was last down here, with the small animal bones and the rocks piled up high, blocking the entrance to the main chamber. A whispered spell and the rocks was moved to the side. Harry grinned, feeling slightly smug with himself as this was the first time that he had actually tried to use the spell. Another whisper was all it took for the gate of the chamber to open, the boy smiled again, and as he stepped onto cool marble floor, it had felt good to speak in this language, like a guilty pleasure.

The Chamber of Secrets has being opened again.

As Harry walked down the chamber at a slow pace, mentally taking notes about his surrounding. This place looked exactly the same as it did when he first came here.

_Flashback_

It was during summer vacations when all the changes took place.

You see contrary to what his professors and friends may think, Harry isn't thick, quite the opposite, he is very smart and observant. He understands everything perfectly fine, yet he let other people step forward, he is fine just being in the shadows. He knows what the signs mean, he has seen the way people look at him, and he certainly hasn't forgotten about how bad people treated him as kid.

But he doesn't want to dwell upon them, he doesn't want to think about them. Why go through the trouble? Why go through all the pain and disappointment he is sure would come if he think carefully about his life? Why bother? His goal in life is just to be accepted, if they would only accept him as a hero, so be it.

He lived up to the people's expectations, he would be the hero that they want them to be, he would be whatever they want him to be.

As long as he will be accepted.

But it didn't take long for Harry to see how wrong he had being. He had being too positive, far too positive.

God knows how hard he has tried to live up to everyone's expectations, to be the perfect hero, to sacrifice himself to save their lives.

Oh yes, Harry knew that he would have to sacrifice himself at some point, simply because he don't see how else he would be able to defeat Voldemort with the petty amount of knowledge he has.

He isn't stupid, he knows that no matter how hard he tries, that man would be so much better than him, if not anything else, simply because he has so much more experience than Harry can ever hope to harness.

If Harry is actually allowed to speak for himself, he personally admired the man's ability to charm people, he admired the man's power, he admired the man's ability. Certainly, the man has killed Harry's parents, and he'll never forgive Voldemort for that, but that doesn't affect his reverence towards the man. Had it being him, and he have to choose his own between two strangers, he would have chosen himself.

It just happened that Voldemort has picked his parents.

Either ways, he would have to go against the man, because he wants to be respected. He certainly envies those who can get accepted and respected without ever having to try as hard as he did.

But he embraced fate, with open arms too.

However, he had being wrong. The world didn't accept him, the more he give, the more they ask from him, and when he fails to do so, they would turn their back on him. It had always being him protecting them.

Who will protect him?

During the starless summer nights, Harry had laid in his tiny bed, and thought long and hard as he stared up onto the ceiling. It was after countless sleepless nights that Harry had came to a conclusion.

Things need to change.

He is going to be who he wants to be, do what he wants to do, and follow who he wants to follow. Harry is on the light side no more. For now, he decided, it would be best if he stayed neutral and observe the war before making a selection, because he know that one day, he would be forced to make a choice. Of course, he would need to take revenge on those that has hurt him, he will show the world what he truly is, but before that, he needs to be patient, and stay low. As he poured over the endless possibilities he could go through to change his life, he realized he had never felt like this before. Never before had he being so free and, well, happy. However his happiness soon faded into dismay as he stared at the long list he had written about some things that he would need to do and change.

Of course, his study would be one of his biggest issues, before now, he had always being average, so clearly he needs to put more effort into his work, and stop letting the others step in front of him. He would need to improve potions especially, since it's one of the more important courses he probably couldn't afford to be behind on. Then there are his elective courses, Care of Magical Creatures and Divination, he made a face at this, he had only picked them because Ron is taking them and he doesn't want to bring too much attention to himself by choosing difficult classes. Well, perhaps he need to talk with Professor McGonagall about changing his electives, preferably into Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, if he do some self learning during the summer, he might be able to catch up with the one year that he missed. He had also decided to buy some more books during his shopping trip at Diagon Alley, and maybe even go to Knockturn Alley to search for some interesting reading materials.

_End of Flashback_

A sly grin slipped onto Harry's face as he leaned against the corpse of the Basillisk, being the magically preserved creature that it is, the body hasn't rotted at all. The scale is dry and cold, rather comfortable to lie on. His lips parted slightly.

"Enemy of the heir, beware."

AN: Yay! I hope the chapter wasn't bad. The plot will gradually grow darker, and the characters are, well, let's say they're not exactly stable and nice(evil laugh. Of course, these characters might be a bit OOC, but I was hoping I wouldn't stray too far from the original plotline. The main character, Harry, will not be insanely strong as soon as he decides to start working on his magic, it'll be a gradual process. While the story's main pairing is HP/LV, there will be some minor, one-sided pairings. Due to obvious reasons, the main relationship won't be easy, granted, it'll be painful for both of them. And I myself am more than happy to throw in some anguish to torture these two, damn I'm sadistic for wanting to see these two suffer, they're lovely together(Snickers, but the sad part is the most fun right? Either ways, it'll probably(probably) be a happy ending, so no worries on that. Lastly, please please please review! It'll make my life so much better, I swear.


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